


MENACE

by succubusybody



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Complete, Dark, Don't Like Don't Read, F/M, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Misogyny, Nonvember, One Shot, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Straight up rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-25 18:22:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16665877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/succubusybody/pseuds/succubusybody
Summary: Rey is alone in the petting zoo gift shop where she works. A man comes in without a child, and she's immediately on edge.





	MENACE

**Author's Note:**

  * For [borealvalley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/borealvalley/gifts).



> This one is for borealvalley, who gave me the prompt of southern Ben + petting zoo!
> 
> I hope you like it!!!

Rey can hear her phone buzzing in her bag, and it takes every ounce of free will she has not to reach over to answer it. Unkar’s been a real big jerk about it lately - last week, he’d gone through the security tapes to see if she’d been using her phone while she’s at the desk. Called her in to make her watch it and everything. Told her if he catches her on it again, she’s done.

It isn’t really fair, she thinks. The petting zoo was about to close for the season, and things were slower than normal thanks to a cold snap. Most of the kids were in school, and the moms of toddlers didn’t feel like bringing their kids out into thirty-degree weather to see a goat up close.

While she didn’t blame them, it made her days boring. Every day this week she’s come in after her morning classes, and she’s tried to find ways to stay busy… but things can only get so straightened up in the gift shop, especially without any kids to knock over the stuffed animals.

Even music would have made things better. Real music, not this stupid elevator crap Unkar insists on playing all day. Her phone buzzes again - it’s probably Rose updating her on last night’s date with Finn - and she wants to turn on Spotify more than she’s ever wanted anything in her life. Or at least to play a game for a little while. Anything to break up the monotony.

And then the door chimes. Someone’s here. Rey straightens up in her stool, looking up to see… a fully grown man.

Alone?

She scans the shop, ears pricked for telltale signs of a child, but doesn’t find one. Weird. Really weird. Like, _uncomfortably_ weird. Even if she tries her hardest, she can’t remember the last time an adult came in here by themselves.

Maybe she’s being judgmental. She forces a smile, because Unkar will definitely fire her if she loses a customer by being rude. “Hey there.” He looks a little familiar, she thinks. “How are you?”

“Me?” He has a deep Southern accent - he’s not from around here. “Well, I’m pretty cold, myself.” She laughs like that’s the first time she’s heard the joke. His hair is all windblown from being outside, and he’s got a good, thick coat and good boots on. The same kind Poe wears when he works at the construction site. He holds a baseball cap in his hands.

“Yeah, winter really snuck up on us this year.” She waits for him to buy a ticket, or a stuffed animal for his kid, or anything, but he doesn’t. He nods and passes his hat from hand to hand, looking around the small shop.

Something isn’t right about this, but she doesn’t know what. He hasn’t done anything creepy yet, other than being here, so she can’t say anything. They don’t close for another few hours, either. 

“You remember me?” And there it is - he’s looking right at her now, and she feels the back of her neck prickle, half-nervous and half-embarrassed. She doesn’t, but the longer she stares at his dark hair and warm eyes, the more she feels like she should.

“Yeah, of course,” she lies. “How long has it been?”

The smile that grows makes her a little nervous. No stranger should be this happy that the pet zoo attendant remembers them, she thinks. This isn’t normal. Her eyes dart towards her bag in the corner, wondering if she should go for her phone or not… because, surely, Unkar would forgive this one.

“Few months ago.” Rey nods like she cares, still forcing that smile. “You probably remember my son more, since he really liked you, but when summer ended he went back to live with his bitch of a mom.”

Oh, wow. Okay. Her eyes widen, blinking quickly as her mind tries to process what he’s just said. Even though she knows she looks uncomfortable, he doesn’t seem to notice. If he does, he doesn’t pay it any mind.

“Anyway, your boss around, sweet pea? I’d like to ask him something.”

Her mind races - this feels like a trap. There’s a chance he knows Unkar, since she doesn’t know what that man does in his free time, but alarms are sounding off in her head.

“He’s on the other side of the property.” She smiles, but she’s scared that he can see through it and tell that she’s lying. “The sheep needed shearing. He’ll be back any minute, but if you don’t want to wait, I could let him know you stopped by.”

_Please,_ she begs silently. _Please just leave a fucking message._

“I’ll wait.” A defeated feeling settles into her chest, but she does her best not to let it show. The man wanders around the small gift shop, occasionally stopping to examine a stuffed animal. She’s really screwed herself now, she thinks. Unkar won’t be here til tomorrow, and then he’ll know she’s lying. 

Maybe it’ll be fine. Maybe it won’t.

The man drifts towards the counter, a stuffed pony in hand. This is good, she hopes. Or maybe he’s just killing time. She cans the bar code.

“Thirteen ninety-five.” He hands over a debit card, and she reads the name _Ben Solo_ as she swipes it. She doesn’t know of any Solos in town. That settles it, then: she has no idea who this man is or where he came from. She hands his card back with a receipt.

“What, no thank you? No pretty smile?” His tone _seems_ playful, but it still makes her skin crawl nervously. Just to appease him, she forces a quick smile. It works, she thinks: he smiles back and pockets the card and receipt, tucking the pony under his arm. Her heart pounds as he turns and walks toward the door, cursing him with each step for walking so slowly.

He stops just in front of the door, and she swears she sees him turn the lock. The hairs on the back of her neck stand straight up as he lingers there, staring out into the parking lot. 

Leave, she urges him eyes narrowing and boring into the back of his head. Maybe she was wrong - it was hard to see through him, big as he is. _Leave_.

“Y’know, I might have to have a word with your boss.” He half-turns, pony under one arm and hat crushed in his fist. The air in the room shifts and Rey struggles not to fidget on her stool; she doesn’t want him to know she’s nervous. “It ain’t right to leave such a sweet young girl like you all by herself.”

It’s too much, and she doesn’t care if she’s maybe taking this the wrong way anymore - at worst, he’ll think she’s jumpy and paranoid and maybe leave a bad review on Yelp. She lurches off the stool and scrambles for her bag in the corner. If he leaves, she won’t have to call 911 and everyone will be a little bit better off. If he doesn’t… she’s ready.

Or, at least, that was the plan. She looks up to see him crossing the storefront _fast_ , stuffed animal abandoned and hat on his head. Two hands free. 

Not good.

Rey fumbles with the zipper, panic hitching in her chest and coming to a pitch when she feels his hand tangle in her hair, jerking her roughly away from the bag and sending her careening onto her back. Even with the wind knocked out of her, she flips onto her stomach and tries to crawl further away.

Just a few seconds later, the weight of a boot on her back to stop her. “I was trying to pay you a compliment, bitch. No need to be all uptight about it.”

It all happens very fast: she shrieks as he turns her over onto her back, pinning her in place with a knee to the stomach as he works himself free of his pants. His hands are shaking. She wonders if it’s rage or nerves, but figures it doesn’t make a difference either way. With a heave, she forces herself to sit up, but he strikes her hard and sends her back down. She sees stars and can’t move; after a moment, she realizes that it’s because he’s got one huge hand there, palm covering her ear and fingers splayed into her face as he pushes her head into the floor.

Flailing for him blindly, something between a scream and a sob tears out of her throat as she feels him pulling her pants down. 

“Shut the fuck up, honey. I’m doing you a favor.” He lines himself up and starts to force his way inside of her. She shrieks again, feeling torn open. “Nobody else’ll fuck a cunt like you.”

He fucks her like it’s his first time in a long time, fast and selfish. Each stroke feels like it’s tearing her open all over again. It doesn’t get easier, and doesn’t feel better - she just gets tired, throat scratchy and raw as his thrusts jerk her upwards again and again and again. 

“Ben,” she says, voice weak, arms still searching for something to push away. She can’t see him, and he can’t see her face, and she can’t decide if that’s a blessing or not. “Ben, _please_.” 

The groan she gets in response isn’t encouraging, and she flinches as he clenches the fabric of her shirt in his fist. “ _Fuck_ , baby doll. Say my name again.”

When she doesn’t, he pushes her head into the floor until she winces. “I said say it, bitch.”

So she does. Over and over, choking his name out between strangled sobs as he tears her apart, raising her voice to be heard over the sound of his moans. It helps, she thinks, because he grunts and huffs and freezes and she knows that he’s coming inside of her. She’s torn between crying because it’s disgusting and sighing in relief because it’s over. 

He waits a minute before pulling out, leaving her feeling cold and empty. When he removes his hand from the side of her head, he does it slowly. 

She knows he’s scared she’ll jump up and try to fight him, but she doesn’t have it in her.

From where she’s lying on the floor, she watches his boots head for the door, stopping to pick up the stuffed pony from where he’d dropped it before heading through the door. There’s the click of the lock being turned and the chime of the bell and he’s gone.

He knows that she’s got him - his name, his face on camera, a transaction to prove he was here, his semen inside of her. He’ll be arrested within the day - and he knows it. He just doesn’t care. That terrifies her more than anything.

She takes a deep breath and tries to find the strength to crawl to the phone.


End file.
